


Draconic Bargains

by Merfilly



Series: Slip In Time Pern AU [3]
Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Time Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 08:57:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lessa gets to see the dragons for herself, and makes new friends in the process</p>
            </blockquote>





	Draconic Bargains

None of Kale's riders could catch the spirited daughter of his Blood, not with the lead she'd taken by leaving when she had. It felt freeing to get away from the rest of their beholden, away from being Kale's favorite. As she rode, Lessa got a picture in her head, one that would draw little attention, that she would use to make certain no one commented on her features.

She did not want to be remembered by any she saw, for their bands were not yet ready to take back the Hold. Any betrayal at this point would mean the loss of all her grandfather and father and mother had worked for their entire lives.

`~`~`~`~`

The Harper and Healer Hall was abuzz with talk and ideas as they worked hand in hand with the dragonriders to spread the word. It was almost too easy for a new drudge to slip in, mixing in with the many bodies set by Lord Groghe to scouring all traces of greenery from the stone courtyards shared between the Hall and the Hold.

A pair of dragons winging down scattered all but one of the dutiful workers, who turned just enough to watch the beasts. Her hands never quit moving, even as she appraised the sheer size and mass of the creatures. Eyes trained to see strengths and weaknesses took in the riding straps, the riders and how they sat their mounts, as well as the formidable claws and teeth.

Legends of dragon attacks during the Unrest worked through her mind. If the dragons could be leveraged, Ruatha might finally be restored to the Hold of its proper bloodline. She just had to find a way to sway them towards her cause.

`~`~`~`~`

 _Why do they run?_ Canth asked, the tip of his tail twitching as he settled back on his haunches. 

_They don't know you, Canth. They only know the history, where dragons fought holders, misguided by their riders reaching out for power we should not have._ F'nor let his own confusion that such acts had ever been possible filter through his words. He ran his hand down over the hide closest to him before unhooking his riding belts.

 _It was wrong. Shame... that is not supposed to belong to me,_ Canth said softly, before turning his head back to his rider as F'nor slid down. The brown rider ran his hand along the lower part of the muzzle, radiating comfort to his partner.

 _It was the riders who went wrong, Canth. The dragons were broken by the riders. We learned to do better by you, my dear friend._ That had been learned by those who had fled from the affected Weyrs when violence broke out, reinforcing a lesson about the character of potential riders, for the damage they could bring to the dragons they would bond with. Shallow flights had kept the egg counts to just what they needed to offset rider deaths and increase slowly to fighting levels for the Pass, and the weyrfolk had been mostly adequate to the task of producing children fully reared to the responsibility of riding. What little population increase they could not maintain had been obtained by careful, secretive recruitment of the Holdless of the North, just as when the Weyrs had fled.

There had also been the descendents of the criminals found on the islands, a surprise... and in the end, a welcome addition to the weyrblood for their willful independence and know-how. In the end, if F'nor was being brutally honest, he'd wager that the new breed of dragonmen were more than a match for the avaricious Northerners. 

_Not all of them think of themselves when they use power,_ Canth said, his tone cryptic, tail twitching once more as he swiveled his head away again. F'nor started to press for an explanation, looking to see a simple drudge weeding ahead of them, but F'lar was striding up, Thread charts in hand.

"Ready, son of my father?"

"Of course," F'nor reassured as he followed F'lar's lead toward the entrance where men wearing the colors of the Harpers and the Healers waited to meet them. Neither rider noticed as Canth and Mnementh's tail tips kept twitching, or how diligently the lone drudge continued to work her way around towards where the mighty creatures were.

`~`~`~`~`

Lessa had a dilemma. She had heard the dragon. She could hear both of them now, the bronze one and his smaller brown companion. They were enjoying the sun, but both seemed highly aware of her, and they had shifted to where the courtyard's exits were only reachable by passing them.

There was only so much greenery to destroy and none of the rest of the crew had braved their way back, thus stripping her of the camouflage she needed to assay either a Hall or Hold to gain more information.

_You could ask._

That was the brown. Lessa looked at him again, admiring the strong lines of muscle in the draconic length, comparing to the more massive bronze. Both seemed impossibly huge, but each was proportionate to themselves in ways that looked right to Lessa's eyes.

The sketches in the tome had done nothing to convey their beauty.

 _I can't, you silly creature. If others know I exist, many are in danger._

_None who are friends to **us** can remain in danger._

That was the larger one, and Lessa flicked her eyes toward him as he stretched his neck out along the sunny stones of the courtyard, gazing back at her through many-faceted eyes.

 _It is not so simple._ She flicked the thoughts of war-machines designed to injure or kill dragons being built once more at both of them. _My people live near one who has stolen his lands, and who will do anything to keep them, even if this... Thread... would destroy it all._

 _We do not understand,_ the big one told her. _But our riders would. Please... you should tell them, and they will answer the questions you are trying to learn. It is why you came?_

 _Why you are hiding here?_ the brown one added. _**I** would keep you safe, and your secrets._

Lessa smiled, despite herself, at the overtly flirtatious nature of the emotion behind that offer from the big brown dragon. Legend said dragonmen were lusty creatures... and she could use such traits. It could tip things in favor of her father, if she could catch the attentions of those who were certain to amass power, just from what she had heard so far.

 _No word of my people, even to your riders, and let me hide who I am?_ Lessa bargained with the pair.

 _We do not lie,_ the bronze cautioned.

 _So long as they do not ask,_ Lessa amended. _Please... Mnementh? Canth?_ she pressed, stumbling only slightly in her mind over the bronze's name.

The pair of dragons turned their heads to one another, and then Canth stood on his haunches, turning a forearm out toward her, claws opening.

 _We will help you, and you will let us guard you,_ Canth told her, his invitation to come close clearer with his touch on her mind.

 _I accept that,_ Lessa told him, setting the borrowed tools down at last to come and be hidden by dragon talons against his spicy-scented hide. _So soft._

Canth rumbled happily at the compliment, settling back down in such a way that none would see where the last drudge had gone.

`~`~`~`~`

F'nor found Canth's launch when they left to be slightly odd, but once they were aloft, Canth settled out nicely. He looked toward Mnementh, seeing his brother and partner flew well, then started to question his dragon about the parting comment before they had gone to meet Robinton, the MasterHarper, and Oldive, the MasterHealer.

 _We land,_ Canth suddenly told him instead.

As the landing was made in the face of astonishment from both riders, F'nor decided this was just one of those times when the dragons decided to assert themselves. It wasn't a bad tendency -- at least not in the eyes of most of the descendents of Benden Weyr's riders. Dragon intuition and volition had saved them many times, according to the histories.

The landing was as rough as takeoff, though, making F'nor worry... until Canth released a small woman from his talons, having hidden her carefully to abscond with her.

"Brother, you can't be desperate enough to have Canth seduce companions for you... wait, that's how it usually goes," F'lar said with a bit more humor than the unexpected situation could have brought.

"I didn't ask for one this time," F'nor replied equitably. He then regarded the woman in second-hand clothing and dirty face... and placed her as the drudge who had not run away. "I am F'nor, rider of Canth, now of Benden Weyr," he introduced. "My wingleader, F'lar, rider of Mnementh," he added. Both men slipped off their dragons and approached, stopping when she took a step back and Canth gave a short warning snort.

"Lessa. And your dragons both introduced themselves to me already," she said, unaware of how rare it was for a dragon to talk to anyone not their own rider, let alone one outside the Weyr. "I have warnings for you... at a price."

"A price?" F'lar asked, intrigued.

She drew herself up as tall and proud as any Blooded Holder they had dealt with in recent sevendays. "There are some who don't have access to whatever help you've given Hall and Hold, Dragonmen. I ask only for the same tools you granted them, and I will tell you what I know. I live near lands I know your kind have yet to broach."

"What are you offering in turn?" F'lar asked casually, inspecting his riding gloves for holes and fraying, though he was intensely intrigued by this slip of a girl that spoke to dragons.

She met his eyes steadily. "Your dragons decided to aid me. Pay my price and learn why."

F'nor could not help but smile... and his brother echoed it with a bit of a laugh.

"Lessa, on my word as a bronze rider of Benden, I invite you to ride with us there, where I will grant you all the tools for fighting Thread a holder or crafter can hope for," F'lar told her. "In exchange, you will tell us why Mnementh and Canth are conspiring to aid you."

"I accept... on promise of being returned to a place of my choosing so I may take the tools to my people." Lessa was calm and collected outwardly, but even her headstrong nature was terrified at the thought of being trapped in one of the strongholds of the deadly dragons.

 _Only to Thread,_ Canth promised her. _And dinner._

The interjected thought almost made her laugh, but she covered it by moving swiftly toward both riders.

"We have a deal." She held her hand out to the ranked rider, who shook on the deal with the ancient ritual.

`~`~`~`~`


End file.
